


The Fuckboy's Guide to Vice and Virtue

by torigates



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 05:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: If this was his last real summer, Monty had every intention of taking full advantage of it.





	The Fuckboy's Guide to Vice and Virtue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thistidalwave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/gifts).



> Happy yuletide, thistidalwave!
> 
> I'd apologize for the title, but a) title's are hard and the worst, and b) lbr, Monty pretty much is a fuckboy. 
> 
> We actually matched on two different fandoms, but then I read a Gentleman's guide and was completely smitten by it, and your prompts, I had to write this fic instead. I hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!

Monty woke up with a pounding head, a mouth that tasted like death and his arms full of his best friend Percy Newton. 

It wasn’t the first time Monty and Percy had slept in the same bed. It wasn’t even the first time they spent the same night in a bed when Monty had no recollection of how he got there. 

He rubbed his eyes, breathing deeply through the nausea rolling through him. When he thought he could open his eyes without being sick, he rolled over. 

Percy was still wearing all his clothes from the night before, and a quick glance down at his body revealed Monty was wearing most of his own. 

Monty breathed out a sigh, part disappointment but mostly relief. 

There was a wail from somewhere else in the house, and Monty groaned. He’d be glad when he and Percy were gone and he was away from his baby brother. Even though his parents were forcing him to take Felicity with them on their trip, he was glad to get away from at least one of his siblings. Glad to be away from a lot of other things in the house too, but he wasn’t thinking about that. Not with this headache anyway. 

He could hear Percy breathing next to him, and for a second, Monty was tempted to simply roll over and sling an arm over Percy’s waist. He was hardly awake, it would barely count for anything. 

He thought about all the times he would have done that in the past without a second thought. Then, all these _feelings_ came around and Monty was always on such high alert when it came to Percy. He wanted to touch him all the time, and was constantly hyper aware anytime they came into the briefest bit of proximity. 

Percy never gave even the slightest hint of feeling anything other than friendship towards Monty. 

Monty sighed and rolled out of bed. They had to be up in--he glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table--twenty minutes ago if they wanted to be out on time.

Percy and Monty--and Felicity, unfortunately--were going on holiday to the continent. Then, when they returned Monty would get his MBA and eventually start working for his father’s company. It was his last real summer to have fun, after this, his father had been quick to inform him he would be expected to work and pay his own way. 

It wasn’t the work Monty objected to, not really. Sure, he could be a bit lazy, and there had been a few close calls in undergrad when he thought he might flunk out on academic probation, but that wasn’t the point. 

The point was Monty didn’t want to work for his father. 

The point was Monty really… hated his father. But more than he hated him, he was frightened of him, and there wasn’t much else Monty was good at. He wasn’t even good at business, not really. Monty had never been any good at going against his father’s wishes. Not to his face, anyway. 

He leaned over the bed to shake Percy awake. “Come on, Perce,” he said. “We’re late.” Percy groaned. 

The two of them stumbled around getting ready, and somehow made it to the airport on time. Monty ordered a drink while they waited, ignoring the pointed looks both Felicity and Percy were shooting his way. Hair of the dog and all that. 

Besides, if this was his last real summer, Monty had every intention of taking full advantage of it. 

The flight was uneventful, and by the time they landed and got into a cab in France, Monty’s buzz had worn off again. 

“Should we get lunch?” he asked. 

Felicity ignored him, and Percy directed the cab to their hotel. His French was perfect, and Monty braced himself against the flutter in his stomach. He forced himself to look out the window, hoping Percy hadn’t seen anything on Monty’s face. 

Monty didn’t know how Percy had managed to miss Monty’s feelings for him until now, but he didn’t want to do anything that might change that. Not when it could ruin their summer together. 

They checked into their hotel, and Felicity disappeared into her room, telling them she would see them in the morning. 

Monty was relieved. He turned to Percy with a grin. “What do you say?” he asked. “Should we hit the town?” 

Percy smiled at him, sending Monty’s stomach bouncing once more. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

It turned out Percy’s idea of hitting the town was significantly different from Monty’s. It was less drinks and restaurants and clubs, and more up at the crack of dawn to see museums and the French suburbs. 

It wasn’t the vacation Monty had in mind, but Percy’s excitement was contagious, and Monty found himself not protesting as much as he thought he would.

-

Percy kissed him in Paris.

It was everything. Percy’s hair and skin under Monty’s hands. His lips against Monty’s, their bodies pressed together. 

It was perfect and everything Monty had been dreaming of, not quite daring to hope for. 

“God,” Percy said, mouth a hair’s width away from Monty’s. “Christ, Monty, I’ve wanted--” 

Monty felt himself going still, bracing himself. There was no universe where Monty can imagine Percy wanting Monty like Monty wanted him. Like he had _been_ wanting. 

Monty knew himself. He knew his reputation and he knew how other people saw him. He knew he slept around and people whispered about it behind his back, and sometimes, to his face. He knew what he was. 

He just always hoped Percy saw more than that. 

“You’ve wanted me?” he said, trying to grin. It felt brittle on his face, and he felt Percy draw back. 

“Monty…” he said. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” He looked apologetic. Like he felt _bad_ for Monty. 

Monty felt something inside him crack. 

His grin, however, stayed in place. “Whatever you want, darling,” he said. His voice sounded strange to his ears, and maybe to Percy’s too, because that look was still there. Monty didn’t think he could stand it for a second longer. 

“I’m going to go get some air,” he said, and fled. 

Things were not quite right with them after that. The next morning Monty woke up in their hotel room alone. There was a text on his phone saying Percy had gone out exploring, when just a day earlier Monty knew Percy would have woken him, insisted Monty come along. Monty would have grumbled through the whole thing, but secretly, he’d have enjoyed it. 

Today he was alone. Even Felicity was gone when Monty knocked on her door. He thought about texting her, seeing if he could hang out with her while she did… whatever it was she was doing on this trip. Truth be told, Monty didn’t have a clue what she was up to. He wondered if he should feel bad about that, make more of an effort to include her in things, but then again she always seemed put out whenever Monty was around. 

He spent a lonely day in the hotel room by himself, watching TV and scrolling through his phone. When Percy came back, well after dinner Monty had to fight to keep the smile on his face when he asked how his day was. 

“Fine,” Percy said, and didn’t elaborate. 

Monty nodded. His grin cracked but held. Inside he felt like he was dying.

-

Monty didn’t mean for it to happen.

All things considered, that could probably be the motto of his entire life: he didn’t mean for it to happen. 

They went to a club, and Monty got drunk. This in itself was not unusual. Monty was drunk a lot because if he was drunk he didn’t need to think about--well, a lot of things. 

He was drunk and Percy was avoiding him, and Monty didn’t know how to deal with it. He was used to his life being in shambles. He was used to things not making sense. What he wasn’t used to was Percy avoiding him and this weird tension between them. 

They would need to talk about it, probably, eventually, except for how Monty didn’t want to talk about it ever. If they talked about it things would go from weird to bad, and Monty needed his relationship with Percy. It was practically the only thing he could rely on. 

So they weren’t talking about it, and Percy was avoiding him, and Monty could see him across the club talking to some _guy_ and he put his hand on Percy’s chest, leaning in close. 

Monty hated it. 

There was a touch to the back of his elbow, and Monty startled. 

“Sorry,” the girl shouted. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s okay!” Monty shouted back. He smiled wide, flashing his dimples. 

“You wanna dance?” she asked. 

Monty glanced over his shoulder at Percy. He was still talking to the same guy, still leaning in close. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s do it.” 

The dance floor was crowded and dark. Bodies pressed up against him in every direction. 

“I’m Jeanne,” the girl shouted. 

“Monty,” Monty shouted back. 

She leaned in closer, and Monty let himself get lost in the feel of her body up against his, the pounding beat of the music he could feel in his bones, and the warmth of alcohol rushing through his veins. 

Monty loved to dance and Jeanne was a great partner. She grinded up close against him, and Monty let his hands wander carelessly. The beat of the music worked through him and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t thinking about anything except dancing and how his body felt and how Jeanne felt next to him. 

The blow, when it landed, was a surprise. Monty fell back, bringing his hand automatically up to his face. The crowd pressed him closer to his attacker, and for a moment he couldn’t see anything, just the flashing lights of the club

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” 

Monty could hardly hear the words, let alone focus on them. Suddenly, he was back in his father’s study, his father yelling at him to put his hands down and take his punishment like a man. 

There were bodies pressed up all around him, and Monty couldn’t breathe. He could barely make out the yelling around him, something about some dude’s girlfriend, but Monty couldn’t process, couldn’t _think_. 

“Hey.” 

Percy was suddenly in front of him. Monty didn’t know where he came from. Percy wasn’t here, Percy was talking to some guy over at the other end of the club and Monty was in his father’s study--

“Monty, breathe.” 

Percy’s hands cupped Monty’s cheeks. His face was so close Monty could make out individual freckles on his face, could see the length of eyelashes even in the darkness of the club. Because he was in a club in Paris, not his father’s study. 

He sucked in a deep breath. 

“That’s it,” Percy said. “Again.” 

Monty drew in another breath, and then another. Percy’s hand was firm on his elbow, drawing him out of the club and into the brisk Paris evening. Percy’s hands gripped his face, tilting it up towards the streetlamp. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Fine, darling,” Monty said. “You know me, I’m used to it. It’s nothing.” 

Percy scowled. “It’s not-- _Henry_ , it’s not nothing.” 

In truth, Monty’s ears were still ringing a bit, but that could have been from the noise of the club as much as anything else. 

Percy sighed. “Why do you put yourself in these positions?”

“How was I supposed to know she had a boyfriend!” 

“Did you ask?” 

“Did you ask the bloke you were chatting up?” Monty shot back. 

Percy stopped. “Is that what this was all about?” Henry didn’t know what to say because he didn’t know how to say, _I’m in love with you and it’s a problem, for me personally, because you don’t love me back_. 

Percy waited a moment longer before throwing his hands up in the air. “You can’t keep doing this. You’re not the only person on the plant, you know. You’re not even the only person in my life. I’m allowed to make friends or, or…” 

He trailed off. 

“Or what?” Monty asked. He wanted Percy to say it, but he also dreaded hearing it with every fibre of his being. He wished they could go back in time only a few moments ago when Percy had his hands on Monty and concern in his eyes. 

Percy let out a frustrated breath and shook his head. “You know what? Nevermind. Let’s just get back to the hotel.” 

The ride back to the hotel is silent. Monty’s face hurt, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest.

-

Percy still wasn’t speaking to him when they got to Barcelona.

He wasn’t ignoring Monty, or even giving him the cold shoulder, nothing so dramatic as that. He just wouldn’t initiate conversation with him, wouldn’t nudge Monty for some private joke when they went out with a tour guide, and he never woke up in the same bed as Monty. 

Monty hated it. He’d long ago accepted he would never have get to have Percy the way he wanted him deep down, but he never thought they’d end up in this middle situation where they were hardly even friends. 

It was awful, and horrible, and every kind of terrible, but Monty didn’t know how to fix it. The more time that passed he was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to. 

If he were at home, this is where Monty would go out, get drunk, have sex. He could feel Percy’s eyes on him all the time, like he was waiting for the next moment where Monty would let him down, and Monty didn’t want to be that person. 

He was also beginning to realise that the way he acted at home had more to do with his father than what he actually wanted. Without his father hovering and breathing down his neck about what a huge disappointment Monty was as a son, he didn’t feel the same urge to go out every night and get completely wasted. Without his father around, Monty could relax and have fun, and just be. 

If only Percy weren’t mad at him, things would be perfect. 

But what would happen when the trip was over and he was back home in business school? Monty would never be able to escape his father then. He would fall right back into all his old habits, and Percy would never forgive him. 

If he tried to stay sober, how would he survive his father? 

Monty couldn’t see a way out, and that more than anything else, was completely terrifying. 

One afternoon they were walking around the busy streets, taking in the sights and people watching. Percy was still acting cold to Monty, but he would smile sometimes at Monty’s silly jokes. Things weren’t normal between them, but they seemed almost like they would be soon. 

It only took a moment for Monty to realise Percy was no longer at his side, but that was long enough. 

When he looked back, Percy was leaning against the wall of a building, looking pale, his face drawn. In an instant, Monty was by his side. 

“Darling?” he asked. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” 

Percy shook his head, but his breathing was slightly laboured. “I’m fine,” he said, trying to give Monty a smile. 

“You’re not fine,” Henry said. “Clearly. Should I call a cab?” 

Percy looked torn for a moment. “I think,” he started. Before he could get any more out he dropped to the ground and started shaking. 

“Fuck,” Monty said. “Fuck, shit, Percy.” He didn’t know what to do. 

He knew about Percy’s epilepsy, but only vaguely. Percy had always brushed it off like it was no big deal, and Monty had believed him, or more importantly, wanted to believe him. He didn’t know what to do, his mind running through a million different scenarios. Was he supposed to put something in Percy’s mouth? Or not? Fuck, he should probably know this. 

Before he could make up his mind, Felicity appeared and pushed him out of the way. “Move, idiot!” she said, getting down on her knees next to Percy and putting her hand underneath his head. 

Monty should have thought to do that. 

The seizure seemed to last days and days. Monty stood by, helpless to do anything except watch his friend and hope that he would be alright. 

Finally Percy’s shaking stopped, and he lay on the ground breathing heavily. Felicity was petting his hair and whispering something in his ear, too quiet for Monty to overhear. He wished that could be him, supporting Percy, being there for him. Monty knew himself, and he knew he would fuck that up too. It was for the best that Felicity was here, that she was the one helping him, comforting him. 

Maybe, when they went home and Monty sank further and further into his irresponsible ways, they would find a way to be happy together. The thought sent a dagger of pain through Monty’s chest, but it was good to start thinking of these things now. To prepare himself. 

He turned away from them, pushing through the crowd of people who had gathered and went to flag down a cab. 

“I got us a car,” Monty said, when he made his way back to their sides. “Unless--” Suddenly, he began to second guess himself. Would Percy need to go to the hospital. “Would an ambulance be better?” He burned with shame over his incompetence. He should know more about Percy’s illness. 

“A car is good,” Percy said, his voice quiet. 

Felicity started to help him to his feet, but Monty quickly gathered his wits, slipping his shoulder underneath Percy’s, and his arm around Percy’s waist. 

The three of them climbed into the cab, Percy and Monty in the back, Felicity in the front, giving directions to their hotel. 

Percy felt far away, even though he was only on the other side of the cab. Monty wanted desperately to close the distance--both physical and metaphorical--between them, but he didn’t know how to bridge the gap. 

Finally, he gave in to his own selfish need to touch, and reached out, intertwining Percy’s fingers with his. He gave a quick squeeze, and the relief he felt when Percy squeezed back was enough to bring tears to his eyes. 

Quickly he blinked those away. “You all right, darling?” he asked. 

Percy looked over at him, eyes dark and face pale. “You know me,” he said. 

Monty did, at least he always thought he did, but he wondered now, how much of himself Percy had held back because Monty wasn’t reliable, dependable. He wanted to fix things between them, more than he wanted anything else in the world, wanted to grab Percy by the shoulders and say, _I’ll never kiss you again if only you’d forgive me._

He opened his mouth, but before he could get any words out, the cab came to a stop in front of their hotel. 

Felicity and Percy climbed out while Monty paid, and by the time he got out of the car, they were already inside the hotel lobby, Percy’s arm around Felicity’s shoulders. The moment was over, and Monty didn’t know if he would get another one.

-

They spent a quiet night in the hotel room, just the three of them. Monty found it hard to sit still for any length of time, but Percy looked tired and small under the covers of the bed, a movie playing on TV that none of them were paying attention to.

Eventually Felicity went to her room, leaving Monty and Percy alone. Monty couldn’t stop fidgeting on his bed, shifting back and forth trying to find a comfortable position. 

Percy sighed. “Come here, then,” he said. 

Monty hesitated for only a moment before climbing off his bed and crossing the short distance between them. Percy held out his arm and Monty snuggled up right next to him underneath it. Percy pulled him close, giving him a quick squeeze, and Monty sucked in a shaky breath. 

“Henry…” Monty said. 

Maybe it was the fatigue of a long day, but the name he shared with his father didn’t cause him to flinch in the same way it usually did. 

“I’m sorry,” Monty said. 

“Whatever for?” Percy asked. 

“I didn’t know what to do today. You needed help, and I was useless.” 

“Felicity was there.” 

Monty shrugged. He didn’t want just anyone to be there for Percy. _He_ wanted to be there for him. 

“We haven’t talked about it much,” Percy said hesitantly. 

Monty nodded, his chin pressed up against Percy’s chest. 

Percy sighed. “Listen,” he said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that hasn’t been exactly by accident.” 

Monty looked up at him. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

Percy looked up at the ceiling. “You know how you get,” Percy said. “I didn’t want to scare you off, or have you stop coming around just because I’m sick sometimes.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.” 

Monty sucked in a breath. Here was his best friend saying that Monty was basically untrustworthy when it came to Percy’s health and wellbeing, and the worst part was Monty couldn’t even say it wasn’t true. 

“I’m a shit best friend,” Monty said, pressing his face into Percy’s chest once more. “I’m awful, no wonder you don’t want to--” He broke off shaking his head, and pushed away from Percy’s chest so he could look him in the eye. “Listen, you’re right about me, but you’re wrong. It is a big deal. I’m sorry I haven’t been a better friend.” 

“Hey, no,” Percy said. He touched Monty’s cheek, forcing Monty to meet his eyes. For a moment there was something there in Percy’s expression that had his breath hitching and hope blooming in his chest. “You’re a great friend,” he said. “I should have trusted you more.” 

A feeling not unlike ice water rushing over him went through Monty’s body. “I’ll be better,” he promised Percy. “I swear.” 

“You’re all right,” Percy said, pulling Monty back in to his chest and rubbing his back. “You’re fine.” 

Monty knew that was a lie, but he promised himself he would be better. Even if he and Percy weren’t ever going to be more than friends, he could at least be worthy of that friendship.

-

They were half a continent away from that moment when the car crashed. Monty was in the passenger seat, Felicity and Percy in the back.

Afterwards, Monty will have time to be grateful for that. He will have time to thank God and everyone else he can think of that his being in the passenger seat meant that Percy and Felicity were mostly fine. A few bumps and bruises, but almost entirely fine. 

Monty couldn’t remember the moment of impact. He could only remember blinking his eyes open and thinking something wasn’t right. He could remember the ringing in his ears. He could remember calling Percy’s name. 

He must have called Percy’s name more than once because the next thing he knew Percy was opening the car door and gripping Monty’s arm, his shoulder his face. He could see Percy’s lips moving, but he couldn’t hear anything above that ringing.

When Percy pulled his hand back from Monty’s face, it was covered in blood. 

He may have passed out, then, because the next thing he knew he was lying in an ambulance, Felicity sitting next to him and holding his hand. 

“Where’s Percy?” Monty asked. His mouth moved and he could tell the words came out, but they didn’t sound right. Nothing sounded right. 

“He’ll meet us at the hospital,” Felicity said. 

He lost more time, moments fading in and out. The concussion, the doctors will explain after, but Monty wasn’t worried about that. His ear was gone, and so was the hearing in that side. Monty kept jumping when people snuck up on him. They told him he would get used to it, but everything was hard. Walking was difficult. Even standing was a challenge, but that might have been lingering effects from the concussion. 

Percy curled up in Monty’s bed, back at the hotel after he had finally been released, more than a day later. He was lying on Monty’s good side, and he kept running his hands over Monty’s arms and shoulders, through his hair. 

“I was scared,” he said. “I was so fucking scared, Henry.” 

“Me too,” Monty admitted. “But I knew you’d be okay. That made it better.” 

“I wasn’t scared for me, you dolt,” Percy said. 

“You weren’t?” Monty asked. 

Percy gripped him tighter. “No, you absolute moron. You didn’t see yourself. There was blood everywhere, and you could hardly focus. I was scared I’d lose you.” 

“You’d be okay,” Henry said. 

“No I wouldn’t,” Percy said. 

“I mean, yeah, you’d be sad…” Monty said. “But like, eventually.” 

Percy grabbed Monty’s hand. “No I wouldn’t, Henry, you absolute moron. Do you have any idea? Honestly, it’s like you’re obtuse on purpose.” 

“What?” Monty asked. 

“You’re my best friend,” Percy said. “I wouldn’t be okay without you, even if I wasn’t…” He trailed off. 

Monty could feel his heart beating. It felt like it was going to race right out of his chest. “If you weren’t what?” 

Percy looked at him. He reached out and touched the bandaged side of Monty’s face. “Even if I wasn’t crazy about you,” he said. 

He looked right into Monty’s face and held his gaze. Monty’s heart was somehow beating faster than before. He was almost convinced this was a trick, or some kind of concussion induced dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. 

“Say something,” Percy said, when the silence had dragged on. 

“But when we kissed in Paris--” It was the first thing that came to Monty. He thought there had been something between them then, but Percy pushed him away. 

“I didn’t want to be just a hookup, you know?” Percy said. 

“Perce,” Monty said. “Darling, you could never.” 

“I know how you are,” he said. Then made a face. “Sorry.” 

It hurt, a little, but Monty couldn’t deny that it was true. He had a lot of making up to do. “No, you’re right,” he said. “But, I swear it wouldn’t be like that between us. I--” He drew in a deep breath. “I love you. As more than a friend.” 

“You do?” 

Monty nodded. “I do,” he said. “I have for a long time now, darling. I’m sorry I haven’t always been a good friend, or shown you that--” 

The rest of what he had to say was cut off by Percy’s mouth pressed up against his. The kiss was soft and gentle, nothing and everything like what they shared in Paris. Monty didn’t want it to end, not ever. 

He rolled over onto his back, pulling Percy down with him. Percy felt amazing against him, solid and real, like everything Monty had ever imagined and so much more than that too. It was perfect. 

Percy’s hand brushed over his jaw, and Monty tried to suppress a wince. He must not have done a very good job of it, because Percy was immediately pulling back. Monty tried to reach for him, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“No,” Monty said. “Perce, come on.” 

“You’re injured,” Percy said. “And you have a concussion. We can talk more in the morning.” A look of concern briefly crossed his face, but he schooled his features quickly. 

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Monty said. He reached for Percy’s hand and squeezed his fingers. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.” 

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he said firmly. 

“We can at least cuddle though, right?” Monty asked. 

Percy rolled his eyes, and sighed, but when he settled against Monty on the bed he held him tightly, like he was afraid to stop. Monty understood the feeling completely. 

There was a lot they would have to talk about, as much as Monty didn’t want to admit it. None of that had to do with his feelings for Percy. When he left on this trip, Monty had thought about it as one last hurrah, before starting the rest of his life like his father wanted him to live. The thought had terrified him, but Monty was starting to realise that just because his father wanted it didn’t mean it was his only option. They could sort it out when they went home… or maybe they wouldn’t go home at all. 

With Percy beside him the world was wide open, and for once, Monty couldn’t wait to see what was next.

**Author's Note:**

> I figured there wasn't much chance Percy would keep his epilepsy a secret in a modern setting, but I think what I came up with still kept the spirit of issue.


End file.
